


Jean's Song

by dokidad



Category: Attack - Fandom, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Depression, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, JeanMarco Week, Multi, Songfic, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidad/pseuds/dokidad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One last thing before I go, I don't want to be known as the antisocial weird kid with stupid hair. I don't want to be a face without a name... </p><p>I just want to be Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Whomever This Crumpled Up Piece Of Shit May Concern

**Author's Note:**

> Slight trigger warning for a suicide note and implied bullying.
> 
> Other than that do enjoy my attempt at a JeanMarco song fic.

I've always been told life was something to treasure, but when we walk around like drones wired to the concept that anything we deem unacceptable to society's standards is inferior, then why pretend like I even have a chance at competing? Why throw on a disguise to mask what society's afraid of? Why treasure something that's already been stolen from me?

I'm sick of pretending to be wanted and accepted on this sad excuse of an inhabited rock.

Mom, this isn't your fault. You've tried and failed to raise a son you didn't want in the first place. You should be happy a weight has been lifted from your plastic shoulders.

Dad, fucking grow a pair you piece of shit. You can't just ignore the fact that I ever existed because I wasn't in the forecast.

Don't either of you dare weep over me when I'm gone, dry your selfish eyes. I do not want to be remembered as the dear son you loved and cherished when I pass, when all I was was a welfare check when I was alive.

To the school board and their band of demented circus monkeys who think flinging their shit at everyone is fundamental to education, I'm sorry I'm not sorrier. Thank you for singlehandedly ignoring every plea and cry I threw at you. Don't mention my memorial over the intercom.

To the student body who so self righteously ignored my existence, fuck you all. Fuck every single one of you that thinks you're going to pretend you knew me when I'm gone. All you organ sacks were good for is pushing me 6ft under. Your actions hurt far worse than any words or fists possibly could, because you purposely failed to acknowledge my existence. I hope none of you ever have to face such cruelty in your putrid existences, because I don't fancy seeing any of your faces wherever I'm going.

To my dear tormentors, take your incestuous sack of whatever the fuck and kindly burn in hell.

Eren Goddamn Jaegar, You better move on quick. You better go on to marry Armin because we all know he's the best medicine there is out there for your crazy ass. Do me a favor and forget I ever existed. Don't remember my face. Don't remember my name. Burn all my band shirts (except for my Blink-182 shirt, please make sure I'm wearing that under whatever they put on me). Also, DJ my funeral so it isn't entirely a suck fest, no one wants to hear summertime sadness blared over the shit church speakers because I decided to off myself. (I'm entrusting you with this dick twat.) And even though I could never admit it out loud, I love you man. Thank you for damn near being the only thing that tethered me to this life.

To the people I considered friends, I'm sorry I wasn't as strong as you thought I was.

One last thing before I go, I don't want to be known as the antisocial weird kid with the stupid hair. I don't want to be a face without a name anymore...

I just want to be Jean.


	2. Hospital Applesauce Is Shittier Than An Owen Wilson Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean is put into a less than preferred situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so here we go.
> 
> This chapter is more or less filler. My attempt at Jean is hopeless, but just bear with me here. Thank you to all and any of the reads I got with the last chapter, I cannot explain how happy it makes me no matter the number.
> 
> I actually did do quite a bit of research for this, and I hope I've explained suicide watch and its terms and conditions correctly, I don't mean to cause any offence. 
> 
> Who doesn't like Nurse!Petra?
> 
> Last but not least, let me go ahead and apologize for any typos. I didn't get this to my lovely beta's in time, as well as the fact that I'm posting this from mobile. Whoop.
> 
> See ya next Wednesday!
> 
> P.s. Find me on tumblr! I'd love to hear any possible feedback from this/criticism/the whole 9 yards. http://heichousam.tumblr.com
> 
> I can almost promise I am as lame as I sound (:

This is pathetic. I had one job and I even managed to fuck that up, as personal as it was.

I woke up two hours ago in Trost General Hospital, a few hours post suicide attempt. I'm feeling groggy as hell, and it all _hurts_. 

I remember almost everything. My mom calling up the stairs. My name being called repeatedly until she eventually climbed them herself and nearly beat down my door. I can still hear the earsplitting scream as the tears formed in her eyes. I can only imagine what I looked like, and even if I knew, I don't think I'd want to. 

Mom sat in the seat to the left of me, her eyes red and her face pale. For a while she didn't say anything, and I thanked whatever deity for the silence. 

"Jean..." she spoke up, eyes not moving from their fixation on the wall in front of us. I didn't respond. I didn't know how. _Yes mother, sorry I'm so worthless I can't even kill myself correctly._

I closed my eyes and welcomed sleep.

___ 

When I awoke the second time, it was to a nurse changing out my IV drip. Her eyes met mine momentarily, and she looked as if she pitied me almost. _Idiots,_ I thought. _I don't need your pity._

As she excused herself I realized my dad had rejoined us, making the air more tense as he slept in the seat next to mom's. 

Neither of them looked right, dad a bit more disheveled after a long day at work, but mom... Mom looked far worse. 

I felt a pang of guilt ring in my chest, reverberating through my body in short bursts of pain, slow at first and then all at once. I felt the warmth pool in my eyes as I stared at them longer, clouding my vision. I finally looked away from them as the wetness rolled down my cheeks, unable to hold the tears back any longer. 

They didn't have the right to sit there and look like that. They can't just start to care.

I can only barely grasp how I've made them feel. Enraged. _Embarrassed_. They probably pity me too, like that nurse. They probably think I'm ungrateful. 

They're probably right. 

___ 

Morning comes quicker than it should have, and I find I'm staring out at the sky as its shifting from black to light blue with tinges of pink and red. I can't exactly pin how long I'd been staring, but it felt like forever. 

See there's something surreal that comes with a failed suicide attempt. It's the realization that you could possibly be in the morgue, not breathing another breath or staring at any skies. Not having the time to think about how you've made your parents feel. It's the realization that you are still fucking alive, you can still see the skies and breath the air that everyone takes for granted. It's probably the best and worst feeling in the world. 

I don't regret it, though.

Dad left an hour ago, no doubt to go home and get ready for work. We exchanged a brief look, and it felt as if nothing had changed. 

I wanted to scream.

___

Mom didn't wake until well into midmorning, and I wondered if that had been because she'd stay up all night worrying about me. I highly doubted it. 

Almost as if to save the awkward influx of staring and failed conversation, Nurse Pity comes in with a soft smile lighting her features. I scowled. 

"Mrs. Kirschtien, Jean." She nodded in my mothers direction, and then at me to be polite. "Good morning. I'm Petra, I've been the nurse aiding Jean this past night." 

Mom smiled back at her, all teeth whitener and botox. "Good morning." 

"Jean, how are you feeling this morning?" Nurse Pity-Petra asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Just Peachy." 

She turned back to my mom, ignoring my obvious try at sarcasm. Mom forcefully beat her to the punchline.

"So when will Jean be discharged?" 

Petra looked taken aback, struggling to find her words as she spluttered over her response. "It's not that easy." 

Any worry mom had garnered the night before seemed lost now."What do you mean?"

"Your son's life was put in danger last night Mrs. Kirschtein. Like we tried to tell your husband, state law claims Jean a danger to himself. He needs to be put under suicide watch immediately."

"Suicide watch?" my mom asked incredulously, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. "He can't be put under suicide watch!" 

"I'm afraid that's no longer up to you." Petra pushed, face hard. "Jean will be put under temporary suicide watch until a final decision is made for him." 

Whatever hope Petra had had that my mother might be a little more concerned than my father, faded as she listened to her next blow.

"Excuse you? Who are _you_ to decide anything for _my_ son?" 

"This has been decided by Judge Erwin Smith. When the court feels a child's life is in danger, especially when they hear of incompetent parents, they like to take act immediately. If you have any further questions you may take it up with _him_." She then got very crass with her, "Your son attempted suicide last night, Mrs. Kirschtein. If I were you, I'd be a little more worried about the well being of your son."

___ 

Suicide watch is not nearly as great as media cracks it out to be.

I'm given hospital pyjamas, which consisted of a shitty excuse for cordless sweatpants and hoodies (which also itched like no fucking tomorrow). They took my shoes and gave me socks and slippers, which I actually couldn't complain about because my feet were beyond Antarctica. They moved me to a room with zero privacy and windows galore, right by the nurses station so I could be "supervised" twenty-four-seven. They took all of my belongings, including my goddamned cell phone, which I really shouldn't have brought in the first place. _Well its not like it was actually my choice. Fuck._

My room felt empty except for me and the world moving just outside of my examination windows. I felt totally and completely isolated. 

___

Twenty minutes before lunchtime, Nurse Petra came in with my medication (s). 

I guess it was kind of a stupid thing to do on my part, but never have I ever been even the slightest keen on taking medicine. 

Let's just say, four nurses and a shot that put me out for hours later, I took my medicine anyways. 

My lunch was long forgotten.

___ 

Now showers were probably the one thing I wish I never would have had to experience, this coming from someone who generally enjoys their showers. 

I was given two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner (that I didn't use) that had the promises of smelling like spring rain, but did nothing to that effect. The bar of soap I was given was shittier on another account, seeing as it broke in two before I even got around to fucking using it. (Not to mention it made my skin feel rubbery and dry as hell.) 

But what had to be the most cringe worthy out of all of it was the knock that was laid on my door every five minutes with the less than promising voice that came afterward asking if I was still alive.

Whoever it was the last time around sounded especially exasperated, and I rolled my eyes before I realized he/she couldn't see it. 

"Unfortunately." I bit back, more than annoyed.

___

By the time dinner came around I was more than starving, still I cringed at the "nutritional" selection of cat shit on my tray. 

If I make it out of this alive, I'm swearing off applesauce for the rest of my life. 

When the med run came around a little after my less than promising and barely touched dinner, you bet your ass I took it without question. Turns out I don't fancy four strong arms and shots more than medicine. Whatever. 

As I lied in bed, drugged up, I stared at the empty ceiling above me. I wondered if I'd be totally alone in these next 72 hours, or if by some miraculous act of God someone would come and fill this bed next to me.


	3. The School Education System is More Corrupt Than Paula Dean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee is greater than God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom chapter 3. 
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank you for the reads and comments! All of them are appriciated.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to swing by my tumblr if you have an comments, questions or concerns, or criticisms. Maybe even tell me what you would like to see in later chapters?
> 
> Till next Wednesday.

Late Monday morning I was released from quarantine, freed from forced drug rounds and Satan's personal eatery. I nearly cried when I saw my dad's uptight lawyer, Rivialle, and that's giving more than a bone considering he's a mean little man.

He ushered me into his car, tossing my sack of belonging in hospital plastic into the back seat, before slamming his door and starting the car. _My Knight in shining armor._

We sat in silence for most of the ride to my place, neither of us really daring to test the waters. To say the air was tense is really an understatement 'cause normally Mr. R gave no shits when putting his two cents in. Perfect peanut gallery.

The driveway was where he decided to toss his cookies. I felt a stinging on the back of my head, it taking me a minute to realize he'd backhanded me. Bastard.

"Ouch man! What the hell was that for?"

"You are an ignorant child who's been given the world in his hands, and has been so ungrateful as to give it away over petty teenage problems." He bit, voice low and spiteful. Though his face didn't match his tone, normal scowl not twisted into his features. He was blank.

I had nothing to say.

He did it for me.

"You have a lot to learn Jean, and I suggest you stick around until the end of the lesson." __

My bed is so much more comfortable than I remember it. Flopping down onto ratty Batman sheets I sigh. They reek of old pizza (I'd make a perfect ninja turtle, really) and dude sweat, and I really couldn't care less. I was kinda glad to be home.

I held my phone above my head, (because I obviously haven't learned my lesson), dumb transformer jingling and eye of Sauron greeting me as I powered it up.

**17 UNREAD MESSAGES. 4 MISSED CALLS.**

Stupid Jaegar, always worrying about the dumbest shit. Although maybe I can admit he _did_ have something to worry about this time.

**From: Dumbass Jaegar**

jean?

**From: Dumbass Jaegar**

u ok dude?

**From: Dumbass Jaegar**

i called u like 4 times, this isnt funny.

I felt my heart sink.

**From: Dumbass Jaegar**

JEAN.

 _Eren_.

**To: Dumbass Jaegar**

Yeah bro, 'm fine.

It was a shitty response to a 3 day worry, but I'm a shitty person. What's changed?

__

The rest of my messages were mostly shit from the terror twins and Armin. Random mid-high questions from Monkey face (I mean Connie), Sasha asking me for a lift to the store (she's out of potato chips?), and just a lot of general concern from Armin.

Eren never did text me back. I didn't blame him.

__

Mom was home around 10, her six inch death traps clacking against the tile, alerting the whole house of her entrance. I guess she noticed my shoes by the front door, because she was knocking on my own within seconds.

"Jean?" She asked, cracking it slightly.

I didn't feel bad for pretending to be asleep.

__

School was the farthest thing on my mind when I woke up the next morning, alarm clock literally fucking _screaming_. I guess I dozed off whilst pretending to be asleep last night. How ironic.

My mouth felt slimy and disgusting, my eyes were nearly crushed shut, and my head fucking pounded. I didn't feel like getting up, I shouldn't have gotten up. But I did, trudging down stairs and to the kitchen for some much needed caffeine.

Mumsy and Popsy were already gone for their day killer, which was okay. I was used to the silence.

I flicked the coffee pot on, reheating the brew from this morning, before noticing the note taped to the cabinet above it.

"Jean," it read. "Here is your doctors excuse for school. Please take it to the office so you can be excused from your absences. - Mom."

I scoffed, turning the note over in my hand. Behind it was a small rectangle sheet of printed paper, paper clipped together. It was an official doctors note, with my "condition" in bold letters along with my "doctors" signature. " _Laryngitis_." I rolled my eyes, business as usual.

__

School is always less than aesthetically pleasing, but today felt much, much worse.

The office ladies didn't even pretend to look happy to see me, nor did my homeroom teacher, and by the end of the day I nearly beelined it too my last period.

Mr. Jordan looked vaguely happy to see me, as I nearly rushed to my seat, sinking down into it before most of the class entered. I'd like to think I was a little more subtle about it. (Like I said, perfect Ninja Turtle material.)

I wanted to go unnoticed for the rest of the day, not like that was really ever a problem for me. (No one sits next to "scary Jean"). I just didn't want to be seen and looked at with curious, prodding eyes. Nada, zilch, fucking nothing.

Roll call is a killer.

"Mr. Kirschtien, I'm pleased to see you. Welcome back." Mr. Jordan offered with a dumb smile as he read my name off the stupid roster.

And I'll be damned if every head didn't swivel in my direction. Thank god the knock on the door was enough to distract their attention spans.

Poor shit, everyone knows you don't show up late to- _fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, what a lovely cliff hanger.
> 
> I was more or less satisfied with the way this came out, even though I know its a bit piecy and choppy. Please stick around with me, I'm still finding my inner horse face.


End file.
